Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Zhirinovsky Hunts Crows From Train Window“Could this man really become Russia’s president?” For the BBC, this might be a legitimate question to ask before they bump into another “must-have” Hitler toy in Ukraine.

For Vladimir Zhirinovsky, the enfant terrible of Russian politics, riding on a train can be a unique opportunity of hunting.

Recently the Vice Speaker of the Duma embarked on what looks like a shoot-a-crow safari through the Russian countryside, amplified by a spectacular stream of consciousness that both entertains and horrifies.

The Duma Communists, whom Zhirinovsky managed to plug into the video, have demanded that the Vice Speaker be censured for his innovative technique.

Zhirinovsky: Yes, yes, there it is, there it is! Just perfect! Give me the gun quick, come on! That’s it. It’s like a shooting range. I mean, if you walk, you won’t find anything. But if you ride, you’ll spot all kinds of wildlife everywhere. It can be killed. There it flies again, looking good. They’re flying real good. There it goes again. There it lands. That’d be a great shot. Here’s another one. Here’s another one sitting. Here! Didn’t I ask you to bring me a loaded gun? I will load it myself. Just let them bring the gun.

Travel companion: They say you’re a sharp shooter.Zhirinovsky: They…they’re big. They just don’t know any better [mumbles smth incoherent to himself]. Normally, I used to hit 96 out of a hundred, with a small-bore gun. With a pistol, I could hit, albeit rarely, 27 out of 30, out of 3 [incoherent speech]. My eyes are not what they used to be. Time goes by. When you’re young, your eyes are good, until you’re about 30. When I was about 30, I started losing my sight. Give it to me. Yep, bring it over here, over here. It’s not loaded? Wow, wow, wow! That’s my favorite gun. Ready? That’s bad. You don’t love me. Just five cartridges, and all of them kind of foreign. Are these used to hunt bears? That’s my favorite gun. It’s 30 years old, ИЖ-16. I don’t take care of it. I don’t grease it. I don’t do anything. I don’t do anything. Now we have to open the window and once a crow appears, we’ll do her. That’s a great way to hunt. It’s luxury hunting: You sit in a luxury car and wait for the target to appear.

But where’s the target, damn it? You’re freezing. It’s the March wind. We should have someone look ahead. Babakov (?), get on the footboard and look ahead. Once you see those crows, you let me know. Where? Where? Where? I haven’t seen anything. Don’t fool me. The speed is high. The speed’s increased. The train…why is it moving so fast? When I didn’t have the gun, there were lots of crows. Now that they’ve brought the gun, it’s over. There’s nothing out there! It’s Murphy’s law. Find anything, Babakov? Don’t pity yourself! Get on the footboard and look. Why are you pitying yourself? You’ll freeze, you’ll get sick. What do we do?

You see, as we move further out of town, there’s nothing. Them smart birds! We should’ve hunted at [town name unintelligible] as we moved across town — we had plenty of them there. And here we have nothing. What? Where is it? Where is it? You’re not seeing the right thing. Talk about flying. Oh! Wooow! It’s too far, too far, but there were two of them. Where? That’s too far, can’t you see? Here they come! Boom! (fires gun) That’s too far, and the speed is too fast. But that was fun. Where? Is it sitting? Is it sitting or not? Who says it’s sitting? Boom! (fires gun) It’s too…far away. Hahaha! Birds, birds. See how good it gets. There’s hunting by helicopter, and now there’s hunting by train. What? Right on target. They’ve got their nests over there. That means they’re gone…they’ve flown away looking for food. Where? Ugh, it got away, it got away. It feels things, it feels things. It got away! Boom! (fires gun)

Under the communists, they used to fly in flocks, in communes, and now they don’t. They’re individuals. Where are you, birds? Where are those Godly creatures? What? There are lots of nests. What? Where? There it is, there it is, there it is! Boom! (fires gun). This was closer, but I was after the furthest one. Ugh…the powder is foreign. Our cartridges smell better. The powder. That’s the last we’ve got. Ugh…that was a nice bird, shit! In an orange outfit, shit! What? Hahaha! Laborers! (waves his hand out the window) Should I blow away some chicken, huh? Or a dog, perhaps? Here they are, the chickens. Chickens, chickens, chickens… Boom! (fires gun) Bwahaha! Didn’t I make them a nice holiday? The cartridges. Babakov, give me some more cartridges. No cartridges left, hahaha! Those were fat chickens, black and yellow. No cartridges, huh? What? None left?

Travel companion: Just a moment.

Zhirinovsky: That’s the best…what? Where? Who’s there? Who’s sitting there? Wow! Did you see them? I would definitely get those…I would definitely hit this flock. Here they are. Damn it, where are the cartridges? Ugh…damn it! Oh, those are the ones for me! Here they are all sitting, here they are!